Slowly
by Mirrankei
Summary: She wondered if this was what it was like to be him. To be waiting for everyone to catch up, the world around so much slower than it should be.


Artemis wasn't really sure what to expect, but it wasn't this. She expected, well, speed. She expected Wally's usual cockiness– so to speak– and covering for his nervousness with dumb jokes and typical masculine posing.

She remembered a conversation with M'gann, a few weeks ago maybe, not that it mattered. Conner had trashed the room, destroying his bed without meaning to and, well, doing things that Artemis suspected anybody but M'gann might not have taken quite so well. And M'gann had been so swept up in her emotions and feelings that she had broadcast the whole damn thing to everyone in the vicinity. Artemis was grateful she'd been safe at home that night; Zatanna had looked somewhat shell shocked and exhausted the next morning, and refused to talk about it. She hadn't been able to talk to either of them for a week.

And that was what Artemis had expected. That was what people with superpowers did. They used them. They used their powers like they breathed, consciously or unconsciously, even if they weren't the type to flaunt it. And Wally was the worst of all of them. He couldn't sit still for a minute, he took every opportunity to go for a 'jog' to the next county over, or bring snacks from across the border, or use his power in some other ridiculous function for no reason at all other than that he could. Artemis had seen him boil water by rubbing the bottom of the kettle until the friction heated it. She'd had to bandage his hand after, because he had somehow not thought of what that kind of heat would do to it. He was reckless with his speed, and it was both exasperating and endearing to her.

And this was nothing like that. This was slow, thoughtful ministrations. This was really careful, meticulous fingers across her body, finding every spot that might make her flinch or arch her back or grab the back of his head to yank him into a kiss. And those kisses were slow too, a drawn out exploration of her mouth that she refused to pull away from due to some ingrained determination not to lose any kind of competition, but her lungs were no match for his and she would be forced to let go, panting, her head falling back onto the pillow as he simply trailed his mouth down her neck and onto her clavicle, beautiful and tender and agonizingly slow.

It was torture. Beautiful, enthralling torture that started at his fingertips and settled in her chest and abdomen before spreading all over her body in tingles. It was amazing, and wonderful, and so not what she was looking for. She expected speed. She wanted speed. She wanted everything she'd fallen in love with, powers and all, and she didn't understand how he could endure for so long, when a minute to her was hours to him, when all he would do was pleasure and torture her even though he was supposed to be selfish and enthusiastic and fast.

She wondered if this was what it was like to be him. To be waiting for everyone to catch up, the world around so much slower than it should be.

"Wally," she gasped, and when he leaned up to kiss her she pushed him back. She panted, lips parted, face flushed, pelvis aching as she looked into his eyes. "You don't have to hold back for me, you know."

Wally blinked and licked his lips. He was blushing as well, freckles hidden in the sea of red as he pulled her hand from his face to kiss the bottom of her palm. "You don't like it?" he murmured, and Artemis could hear the line of uncertainty in his tone, nervous he wasn't doing it right.

"I love it," she corrected, turning his face back towards her. "But what about you?"

He grinned and bent down to nuzzle her neck. "I'm enjoying myself plenty," he cooed, then kissed his way down her clavicle to her breasts.

Artemis gasped and arched her back again. "B-but," she protested, placing her hands against his shoulders. She could flip him, if she wanted, knock him off the bed or just switch their positions, take control. Wally liked to have control, though, even if he was being timid at the moment.

He looked up at her again, confused.

She waved her hands. "It's just… you're going so slowly. You don't have to hold back your speed for me."

Wally blinked at her, then grinned the familiar cocky grin she'd fallen in love with. "Maybe next time," he said, and ducked suddenly– quickly, faster than she could see– down between her legs and gave her an agonizingly slow kiss where he'd been teasingly brushing before. "I want to make this moment last as long as possible."


End file.
